


Hail and Farewell

by aykayem



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-09
Updated: 2013-05-09
Packaged: 2017-12-10 20:50:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/790021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aykayem/pseuds/aykayem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's been dead for years, but like clockwork, Isabelle returns to the marker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hail and Farewell

Isabelle stood for a long time in front of the marker, dark eyes studying the curve of letters, the way they swirled and swooped to create words and meanings. It wasn't typical of Shadowhunters to get any sort of marker upon their death - all they needed was the knowledge that they would be rebuilt into the City of Bones, and return to the earth in the way that only the Nephilim could, and they would rest easy. But Isabelle had lost two of her brothers, leaving the third who looked nothing like her though he was still brother enough, and she needed something for that. Some sort of remembrance, some place she could go to recall the easy way that both of them would beam at her at times, or the way they would both give her that same sort of disapproving look if she did something they didn't like. Max and Alec had been so similar, despite being a decade in years apart. They looked the same, in that way that brothers always do; they reacted the same, in that way that brothers do; they treated her the same, loving her with every fibre of their beings, and hating her at the same time in that way that brothers had to.

She never stopped loving either of them, nor the way that they filled the small part of her that struggled not to be lonely when it seemed impossible not to be; when Max died, that hole grew a little bigger, and when Alec died sometime later, that hole grew too big to fill. Jace was good, but he wasn't good enough, not that she would ever think to say so. She just smiled, and nodded, and tried to hide the tears she wouldn't cry into her pillow as she forced herself to sleep. There had been a point in time when insomnia wracked Isabelle, when nothing would help her get to sleep, and those rare times when she did, there would be nightmares. She had hated that point, had done everything within her power to try and make it pass faster. Had gone out and distracted herself with everything that would possibly have her in an attempt to help herself feel something again. Simon had helped, but there was only so much that could be done.

It faded eventually, just as things do. It softened into a constant numbness, leaving her not quite able to feel the way she once did. She wasn't quite as cheerful; she was jaded. It was one of those things that hadn't seemed quite possible in the grand scheme of things, but then again, Isabelle had also never thought that she could would ever be an only child so early in life. Sometimes things didn't go the way we wanted.

She tucked her hair behind her ear to prevent herself from reaching out to the marker, inscribed with simplicity: Alexander Gideon Lightwood - Ave Atque Vale. Years were unnecessary - the date was written in indelible marker on Isabelle's mind. She could feel Simon's eyes on her from afar, where he lingered just around the corner, refusing to let her alone when he could remain there in absolute silence; sometimes she was glad she was dating a vampire, for even someone as young as he was could keep themselves from making a single sound and breaking the illusion that someone was alone in a room. The stone devoured all sound and all light save that of the witchlight in Isabelle's free hand, and Simon's presence didn't fight that. He was a comfortable reassurance, just within reach if she needed him, but far enough to let her know that he didn't think she did.

It had been years since Alec's death, since Max's death, since everything had been turned on its ear. Sometimes she was grateful - it brought her Simon, after all - but sometimes she wasn't. Sometimes she resented it all, and just wished that she could have her brothers back. Those were the hardest nights, when sleep was still impossible, and if it was achieved at all, it was fitful and wracked with memories and nightmares.

"I know that you'd probably…I don't know- Come back from the grave belatedly as some kind of vengeful ghost, just so you could kill me for this, but-" Isabelle started, her voice seeming too loud in the small room. "But I can't just not visit my big brother. I know that you're not supposed to be remembered like this, with a marker, or a grave; I know you're supposed to return to the City of Bones, and all that. Blah blah blah," she went on, growing quieter as her voice began to waver, "But I don't care. Whoever made up those stupid rules never lost both their brothers. They didn't have to watch their parents grow apart, watch their family drop away like flies until none of them were in the same place at the same time.

"You know, Jace moved out. He has an apartment with Clary now. Dad's in Idris again. Mom's still here with me, but what with the size of the Institute, it's a wonder if I ever see her any more. It's pretty much just me and Simon. I'm still with him. I guess I'm lucky that way. If I were him, I'd have taken off ages ago." She broke off with a little laugh, the sound ragged and near tears. Around the corner, Isabelle could hear him suck in an involuntary breath, a scuff of his sneakers on the stone as he resisted the urge to presumably go in with her. She wouldn't let him, and he knew it.

"Magnus took off ages ago. Broken heart, probably. I guess he stuck around just long enough to make sure none of us were going to get killed without him, then made his way back to Europe. I doubt I'll ever see him again." _I doubt I'll live long enough_ , she didn't say. It was hard enough to get all this out without saying that aloud, that promise that she probably wouldn't see her thirties at this rate. Just another thing that Alec would come back and kill her for, if he could. But maybe if he could, she would just be all the more eager to give it a try.

She missed him more than words could possibly encompass.

"I-" Isabelle started up again after another long moment of silence; her voice rang against stone, bouncing around the room with a soft echo. Then silence reigned again, until the hot tears that pricked her eyes finally started to fall, rolling down her cheeks. Her shoulders shook gently, and for as long as she could, she held it in. She was quiet, biting her tongue until she tasted copper on her tongue, as though she was sucking on old pennies. Then, like a dam, it burst, and the room echoed with soft sobs as she stood there, letting herself cry the way she'd wanted to for ages. At some point, Simon did join her - he was so quiet that she never even realised until his arms were around her, and hers around him, her face buried against the soft cotton of his t-shirt, his smell familiar and reassuring. He whispered something in her ear, something gentle as he rubbed her back, soothing her, and bringing her back as only he could.

Eventually the room grew silent again, returning to that quiet darkness that it was so accustomed to. The stone grew cold and distant, the marker as pristine as the day it was carved. The dead were gone, the living ageing with time that refused to slow for anyone. And like clockwork, Isabelle would return year after year.


End file.
